


gone,

by bloodflood



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 18:11:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11296032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodflood/pseuds/bloodflood
Summary: Korra loses herself and ends up in a new world, roaming as a ghost, but then she meets the only person who can see her, who can help her.aka. Korra dies but she isn't dead?





	gone,

**Author's Note:**

> Jesus, okay guys. Let me tell you real fucking quickly here that I tried my hardest. 
> 
> I wrote this a thousand years ago, and I just found it and I wanted to post it. I think this is inspiration from another fanfic except I can't find it and I'm really sorry about that.

 

 

You’re running. Are you though? What are you running for? 

 

Oh, because something (somebody?) is chasing you?

 

Your hands grasp wildly at dirt and grass? Hands? Claws? Purples beams shoot, destroying the trees around you. 

 

You feel it when the beams hit your side, slicing through your careful muscles and your ribcage, collapsing your right lung in the process. Blood pours out like a stream. You cough defeat. 

 

“Come, Raava,” somebody - something whispers, voice like nails against a chalkboard. “Giving up so easily?” It’s floating through the mess you made almost proudly. 

 

The middle of it’s chest lights up. You scramble back. Right? Have you even moved at all? 

 

No. You’ve just been staring Death in the face. 

 

Why can’t you run? 

 

Do you even try?

 

No. 

 

Because you’re not running. You never were? 

 

You’re  _ drowning. _

 

Water is filling your throat. You can’t find where it’s coming from. But you can look at the hands holding you under. 

 

Brown eyes under a scarred eyebrow looks down at you. The man’s face is blurred from water. You know exactly who he is anyway. 

 

Blood slips through your teeth. Screaming and scratching doesn’t help. 

 

_ This can’t happen. I can’t let it.  _

 

You try to fight back. (Do you really?) Fire catches on the way out of your mouth. But you’re so tired. Everything is too much. (You’ve given up. Where are you?) 

 

You never even tried. 

 

He whispers that it will all be over soon.  _ Thank the Spirits. _

 

///

 

You are (were?) Avatar Korra. 

 

It’s all you’ve ever known, and it’s all you know now. 

 

You’re somewhere and nowhere. You feel almost alive, but you know you must be dead.

 

In fact, you know you died a few weeks ago. You know this because there’s no way it’s been longer than a week. 

 

Then again, there’s no way that your world changed this much in the course of a few weeks. 

 

There are these small rectangles called phones, you don’t know how they work, but everybody has them. And the people are dressed so differently, you can’t describe how they look. The buildings are taller than you’ve ever seen them, completely made of glass.

 

 

The truth hits you when you spy over a man’s shoulder. 

 

“Hey can I see that for a moment please?” He doesn’t react, so you  go to tap his shoulder. You never even touch him, your hand goes right through. 

 

Shaking, you look at the newspaper anyway. The date is October 14th, 2004 

 

The breath you held leaves your body viciously, and you're choking on tears. 

 

The truth is that this isn’t your world anymore. 

 

///

 

        Nobody can see or hear you. _ Nobody _ . 

 

 

It takes you a while, but you finally figure out where you are. Purgatory. Nobody told you it would be this lonely. 

 

You should have guessed really. 

 

The worst thing is being lonely isn’t the worst thing. The worst thing is sitting and watching, not being able to do anything.

 

Last week, you were walking down the street, teeth clenching against the force of gravity. No could hear or see you, not as you broke down and screamed with the force of all the past Avatar’s combined. You’re throat was shredded by the end of your mourning session. You got up and ran ran ran ran ran until you were slipping away. 

 

You ended up somewhere, not knowing where you were at, and it doesn’t surprise you anymore. What you do know, however, is that it was dark and you were stuck between some alleyways. 

 

What you do know is that somebody is screaming for help from the shadows of the alleyway to your right. 

 

You don’t even think about it, it’s muscle memory now (was?) You sprint into the darkness. 

 

 

A man with a knife is staring down a woman, smirk lit up on his mouth. Her blonde hair is caked in blood.  _ She’s been here for a while _ . 

 

A glint flashes. The man has raised the knife. 

 

“No!” You scream. (Nothing. He doesn’t even know you’re there.) “Get away from her!” You punch at him, expecting to feel flames come from your fist. 

 

But… 

 

They don’t. Nothing happens. 

 

And you’re staring in horror as the knife find it’s mark in her chest. 

 

And you’re staring in horror as blood splashes out of her mouth. 

 

And you’re staring in horror.

 

And you’re

 

And you’re 

 

And

 

And then you’re just staring. 

 

You are Avatar Korra, defender of the people (were.) You just witnessed a murder. 

 

You are Avatar Korra and dead, you witnessed a murder and couldn’t do anything to stop it.  _ Nothing nothing nothing.  _

 

(You were the Avatar. Not anymore.)

 

 

 /// 

 

 

Days pass. (Maybe it was months, you can’t tell the difference anymore.) 

 

During this time you’ve learned a lot. (Too much.) You’ve learned about people and why the hell this world looks like robots built it. 

 

You learn that people are the robots who built this world. People here don’t seem to have any emotions. 

 

You’ve been here for (?) and you’ve yet to see anybody smile. 

 

You feel cold, dark grey almost.

_ Home,  _ you recall,  _ didn’t feel like this. _

_ But where was home?  _

 

_ (Home home home home home home?)  _

 

You wander aimlessly, a true phantom. 

 

How pathetic. 

 

/// 

 

You lied. This world isn’t completely devoid of life. 

 

There’s a grassy park among the grey background, it’s so full of life that you feel yourself choking on tears. 

 

You can’t help but stare in awe, it feels like a thousand years since you’ve seen anything this bright. You reason that it probably has been a thousand years. 

 

You’re so hesitant to enter the shield of grass that blocks the outside world. You feel wrong, too, stepping inside of something so full of life and laughter. Especially because you’re so incredibly dead. 

 

Once you gather up the courage, you hold your breath, squeeze your eyes shut and  _ jump _ . 

 

Warmth hits you, it’s like you’ve never known anything but cold. 

 

Children of every age and size run around, through you, past you, small legs pumping fast, tiny heads thrown back in happiness. Parents and Grandparents sit on the benches, the occasional chuckle falling out of their mouth. 

 

You have to look back outside the park to make sure you didn’t goof up and transport yourself somewhere else. 

 

Amazement fills you, you feel like you’re almost seen. 

 

/// 

 

The next day, you finally see the sun. 

 

It’s amusing because according to the newspaper in the woman’s hand below you, it’s Sunday today. 

 

You learn the woman’s name is Yasuko, as long as the man holding her hand is correct. (His name is Hiroshi.) 

 

They have a daughter, too. You pick up quite fast that her name is Asami. 

 

Normally, when you people watch, you try not to invest yourself too much into families. But this one has you  _ very interested _ . 

 

People shy away from this family, whispers behind hands and jealous glances make you so curious you itch. 

 

From your place atop the park’s statue, you see cameras pointed in the family’s direction. Sneered words penetrate your ears. 

 

“... Heard their daughter won first place at the Inventor’s Convention last week. As if the Sato family needs more fame and fortune to their family. She’s only six!”

 

_ Sato? Like Satomobile?  _

 

Surprised, you turn your attention to the daughter. 

 

She’s not running around like the other kids. Instead it appears as though she’s messing around with a radio. 

 

_ What on Earth? _

 

It’s so odd that it takes you aback. You almost fall off the statue in your haste. Cameras continue to zoom in on Asami Sato, curious and awe filled voices follow. 

 

Suddenly, she jumps up, scream painting the air in victory.

 

“Dad! Mom! I got it to work again!” 

 

The people who weren’t glaring, (including you,) start to chuckle. (Your throat hurts afterwards. It’s been so so so so long since you’ve used your voice.) 

 

“How adorable,” an elderly woman sighs. “Just like her mother.” 

 

“Wow!” Hiroshi smiles back, pride flooding his voice. “I’m so proud of you, good job.” 

 

“Thank you, Asami,” Yasuko smiles, joyful tears falling off her lips. “This was your Grandfather’s radio.” 

 

The sun shines brighter at the six-year-old’s laugh.

 

/// 

 

You won’t admit it, but you’ve started looking forward to the Sato’s weekly visits to the park. 

 

They bring a different kind of life to this new world. They aren’t like the other people who enter the park, like they are just learning how to live. The Sato family act as though they are skilled in the art of living. 

 

It fascinates you. 

 

It also kills you. You ache for life. 

 

There’s another family who seems to show up at around the same times the Sato family does. 

 

It doesn’t take you long to figure out why. 

 

The oldest kid, the one with spiky hair and amber eyes is the sole cause for his family’s appearance at the park. He’s been throwing heart eyes at Asami since whenever day one was. 

 

You watch from your place on the statue as the boy stalk Asami with red colored cheeks. 

 

It’s four weeks when he finally gathers the courage to approach her. 

 

“Hello,” he stutters. You spot heart floating above his head. “I’m Mako.” 

 

You smirk when Asami squints her bright green eyes in confusion. “I’m Asami.” She stands in spite of her bemusement, holds out her hand. “Nice to meet you.” 

 

Mako holds on to her hand longer than necessary. He doesn’t even try to hide his blush. 

 

“What are you paying with?” He asks eagerly. You can’t help but breath out a laugh when Asami huffs a bit. 

 

“I was trying to work on my plane.” Asamai mutters and turns the the half assembled plane on the ground. 

 

It’s Mako’s turn to be confused. “Isn’t that something a boy is supposed to do?” 

 

You stiffen when Asami does. “No! It can be a girl thing too!” 

 

He stumbles, clearly taken by surprise. “I-I know! It’s just not many girls do that.” 

 

“Because people won’t give them the chance.” Asami bites back, venom laced in every syllable.” 

 

You laugh and laugh. You can’t help it. 

 

You are in awe of this little girl. 

 

(Meelo, you think, Meelo, Meelo, Meelo.)

 

“Sorry,” Mako grimaces. You feel almost bad for him. 

 

“Whatever,” Asami sighs, going back to mess around with her plane.  _ Whatever that is _ . 

 

“C-Could I watch you maybe?” Mako stutters again, blush back in full force. He doesn’t see that Asami rolls her eyes. 

 

“Sure.” 

 

For the next few hours, you watch both of them with a sly grin. You wonder if Asami will grow to return Mako’s feelings one day. Or if they ever become friends. 

 

/// 

 

The sun starts to set far too soon. 

 

The boy and his family left two hours before, and now it’s the Sato’s turn to leave. 

 

You groan when the family starts packing up. You wish they could stay forever. 

 

It’s impressive how lonely you are without them. So so lonely. 

 

It sucks to be a ghost. 

 

 

/// 

 

You don’t really have any plans until Sunday comes back around. 

 

Sometimes, you’ll find yourself waiting outside the library, waiting until somebody opens the door wide enough for both of you to slip in. And sometimes you’ll read over people’s shoulders or wait for them to pick up a book about history. Once or twice some history books will discuss the plausibility of element bending. 

 

You can hardly stand it when the books rules bending as unlikely. 

 

_ No, people used to be able to bend. I don’t know what happened but, they could. I mean I was the Avatar, I would know.  _

 

There a few select people who believe that bending was once a possibility, you find out. Debates over this subject can be found in the park. 

 

You find yourself rooting for the “Bending did exist” team. 

 

Other days, your admittedly darker days, you sit and brood. And get angry. So angry.  

 

_ I just want to go home.  _

 

You wish you could remember more than your name, title, and a very small collection of other things. 

 

_ Avatar Korra _

 

_ What a joke. Not anymore.  _

 

But then Sunday will arrive along with the Sato family. And then you’re okay for the meantime. 

 

/// 

 

You’re not okay. 

 

It’s Sunday and the Sato family has yet to show up. 

 

It’s Sunday and nobody has shown up. 

 

It’s Sunday and the sun isn’t shining. 

 

You start to worry. You’ve been waiting here the whole day, it’s not even Sunday anymore. 

 

_ Maybe they got held up? Famous people get held up, right?  _

 

You don’t stop worrying. 

 

You sit, arguing with yourself for another forty minutes before you make your decision. 

 

You know enough about the Sato family to know that the people follow wherever they go. 

 

_ Just follow the people _ . 

 

You’re so anxious and worried that when you jump off the statue, you land on it’s nose and fall the rest of the way down, landing on your back. 

 

_ Glad nobody can see me, or they would have seen me fall. _

 

(You aren’t glad nobody can see you.) 

 

You start running though, following the reporter truck as soon as you see it. The truck is moving really fast, too. And it’s not the only one racing, there are more, five that you can see. 

 

Your breath catches as you stumble.  _ Something happened. _

 

Then, you hear police sirens. 

 

This new world is crumbling down around you, and you don’t know how to stop it. 

 

You’ve been running for centuries before you and the thousand cop cars, ambulances, and TV trucks get to where you all want to be. 

 

You zoom past the gates of the Sato’s mansion. Breath is shooting out of your lungs so fast that you’re not sure you know how to breathe. 

 

It looks like the whole city is here, gathering like a cloud of sickness right in front of the door. 

 

_ Have to get to the house.  _

 

And so you push into people, gasping at the raw sensation. After about thirty people, it starts to hurt. Gritting your teeth, you shove into this last person and then you’re home free. 

 

With the porch in your sight, you have every intention to sprint into the house to see what the hell was going on. 

 

A stretcher comes out the door, a blue tarp covering whoever was underneath it. Your body spasms. 

 

You stare, eyes wide, like you’re staring at a murder scene, (Later, you realize that’s exactly what you were looking at.) at the hand with a jade ring that fell out from under the tarp. 

 

You’ve seen that ring before. 

 

You’ve seen that hand before. 

 

You fall to your knees, the ground struggles to hold you there. 

 

_ Oh god, oh god, oh god. _


End file.
